


The First Year

by SummerNights492



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Lewis/Marnie is background, Romance, Teen rating is for (mild) language, brief mentions of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24174631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerNights492/pseuds/SummerNights492
Summary: Shane and Anya navigate their first year of marriage in scenic Pelican Town![A series of experiences centered around Stardew Valley's central events/holidays in-game, along with other significant moments.]
Relationships: Lewis/Marnie (Stardew Valley), Shane (Stardew Valley)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Summer Pt.I - Luau

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first fic here on AO3, so I can't wait to hear what you all think, and I hope you enjoy! :) Some in-game events are easier to come up with content for than others, lol! I'll try to come up with a regular update schedule once I see how it's received.

“I’ve never seen a chicken like this before.”

Anya crossed her arms. “You literally bred a _blue_ chicken,” she scoffed. “Who are you to judge?”

Shane rose from his kneeling position with a grunt. Ignoring her jibe, he asked, “Where did you say you got her?”

“Well, uh…” Anya twirled her ponytail around her finger and frowned. She recalled the shock she’d felt upon stumbling into the chicken coop early one morning to find a black egg among the typical brown and white. “It was just…there, one morning. I didn’t get it anywhere. At first I thought maybe it was an egg I’d missed and it’d gone bad, but it didn’t smell bad, so I just…put it in the incubator.”

Shane eyed her warily. Anya dropped her hair and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I believe you, babe, it’s just—well, it’s like I said. I’ve never seen a chicken like her.”

He waved vaguely at the black chicken hunkered down in her nest of hay. She opened her beady red eyes long enough to glare up at them, gave a little “harrumph,” then went back to her rest.

“Have you ever eaten the eggs?”

Anya grimaced. “They don’t taste that good. I haven’t met anyone yet who actually likes them, but they sell. I don’t know who’s buying them.”

“More for them, I guess.” Shane stepped over the chicken, lovingly named Paprika, and moved to gather the eggs for the morning. “As long as she doesn’t hurt the other chickens, I don’t really care.”

“What, do you think she’s a demon chicken? Gonna steal their eggs?” Anya teased.

She thought she heard Shane mutter something in the affirmative under his breath, but she wasn’t sure. He was cradling a half dozen eggs in the crook of his arm when he returned to the coop’s entrance.

“Do any of them look good enough for the Luau?” Anya asked. “You know how Lewis gets about his ‘premium ingredients’.”

She made sure to add air quotes to the words and stick out her tongue. Shane laughed.

“Never lettin’ that go, are you?”

“I had no idea I was supposed to bring something! His letter made it sound like a suggestion,” Anya insisted. Her first Luau in Stardew Valley had gone…unpleasantly, to say the least. Anya hadn’t known each resident was required to bring something for the soup to participate. Having just taken the best of her crops to market, she’d produced a wilted and sad-looking cabbage. The governor hadn’t been impressed—and neither had Lewis.

“Well this year we’ve got some pretty great stuff.” Shane examined the eggs he’d gathered as they returned to the house. It wasn’t even noon but the air was stifling, the sun beating on them mercilessly from above. “I thought maybe we could make some mayonnaise. It’ll give a sort of richness to the soup, or something.”

“Sure, we can do that.” Anya pulled off her sunhat and wiped the sweat from her brow. The air conditioning hit her like a physical blow upon stepping inside, but it felt utterly blissful on her flushed skin. “Just make sure you give yourself enough time. We don’t want to be scrambling at the last minute.”

“Anya! We’re gonna be late!”

“I know, I know, hang on!” Anya fell to her knees, her hand darting back and forth beneath the bed for her shoes. Shane had fallen asleep in front of the TV and she’d lost track of time (as usual) out in the fields. They should have been at the Luau an hour ago.

Her fingers latched onto a pair of flip flops and she dragged them forward. By the time she made it outside, Shane was already waiting, checking the time on his phone.  
“Do you have the mayonnaise?” she asked.

“Wha—no, I thought you grabbed it on your way out.”

Anya groaned. “Gimme two seconds.”

Flying back into the house, she threw the refrigerator door open. There were several jars of mayonnaise inside—Anya blindly grabbed for one and returned to the porch, shouting, “Alright! Let’s go!”

By the time they reached the beach, it seemed every other resident in town had already arrived. Despite the oppressive heat, everyone seemed in good spirits, and several had decided to pass the time splashing about in the ocean. Lewis and a stout, important-looking man were there to greet them when they arrived.

“Anya! Shane! I almost thought you weren’t going to make it,” Lewis chided, slapping Anya on the back with what she thought was more force than necessary. She winced.

“Sorry, you know how summer is—work, work, work,” she said weakly.

Lewis turned to his companion. “What did I tell you, Governor? The diligence of our residents is second to none!”

The portly man chuckled. Anya couldn’t imagine how he wasn’t absolutely dying in his deep purple suit. “I’ve known about the Valley’s work ethic for many years, my friend,” he agreed. “And I’m sure it’ll yield a terrific soup, just like always.”

The two older men smiled at her. She smiled back, her grip tightening on the mayo jar in her hands. Fortunately, Shane chose that moment to swoop in and take her by the elbow.

“Well, we better get our contribution to the soup pot. I’d hate to keep Aunt Marn waiting.”

Something in Lewis’s smile changed at the mention of Marnie. Anya couldn’t put her finger on it, but it seemed softer somehow, more sincere. “Ah, yes, of course. We won’t keep you.”

Shane steered Anya in the direction of the soup pot, where Marnie already stirred away. The aroma was exquisite; Anya’s stomach growled.

“Hi, Marnie,” she greeted, lifting the mayo jar high. “We’ve got one more thing for you!”

Marnie’s face brightened. “Oh, fantastic! Bring it on over.”

Anya hopped up the stepstool and stood over the bubbling pot. It took a little work, but she managed to unscrew the jar of mayo—and froze. Marnie watched her inquisitively.

“Something wrong, dear?”

It took Anya a moment to realize that Marnie had spoken, so transfixed was she on the contents of the jar. “Huh? Oh, no, I’m fine! I just need to talk to Shane real fast—excuse me.” 

Shane frowned as Anya rushed to his side. “Did you put it in?”

“It’s the wrong mayo,” Anya hissed.

Shane could only stare. “How—”

Anya shoved the jar under his nose for his inspection. “ _It’s. The. Wrong. Mayo._ ”

Shane took the jar from her and peered inside. He paled. “Oh, fuck.”

What greeted him was a plethora gelatinous black goop, concealed by the opaque glass of the jar. His head snapped up to regard Anya.

“The jar wasn’t labeled, a-and we were in such a rush,” she babbled, tugging frantically on her hair.

“Hey, shh, calm down,” he soothed. “It’s alright, we just won’t put it in.”

“But Lewis is expecting it of us!”

The two turned to regard the mayor, only to find him staring intently at them from afar. They spun back around.

“I can’t screw up, not again,” Anya moaned.

Shane sniffed the contents of the jar and wrinkled his nose. “It’s, uh, a big soup,” he ventured slowly. “Surely if we just add…a little. Just a little. It can’t possibly ruin a whole soup, can it?”

“Maybe not.”

“And it’s not like anyone will know that we screwed it up—if it does screw it up, of course.”

“Yeah.”

The couple regarded each other for another moment before coming to a silent agreement. Shane squared his shoulders and approached the steps. Marnie smiled at him.

“You ready?”

“Yeah—Anya was just having some trouble with the jar.”

Anya watched with bated breath as he tipped the jar over and allowed a small amount of void mayonnaise to spill into the soup.

Marnie raised her eyebrows. “What was that?”

“A new jelly Anya’s been testing,” Shane said quickly. “It’s real good.”

“Oh! I might have to buy some from her!”

Shane forced a laugh and retreated down the steps. The two worked to conceal the jar in Anya’s bag before anyone else could inquire about her “new jelly.”

“What if everyone gets sick?” Anya whispered, now pale.

“I know it doesn’t taste that great, but I doubt anyone would get sick,” said Shane, but Anya didn’t think he sounded so sure.

Minutes later Marnie tapped the spoon on the side of the pot with an air of finality, a broad smile on her face. “Alright everyone, the soup’s done!”

“Great!” Lewis led the Governor to the pot, beaming. “On behalf of Stardew Valley, Governor, we welcome you back for another Luau. Would you do us the honor of being the first to taste this year’s soup?”

The Governor chuckled. “Well of course! I’m sure it’ll be just as wonderful as always.”

Anya resisted the urge to watch through her fingers and sought Shane’s hand instead. His fingers laced through hers and gave a gentle squeeze.

“It’s just a soup, Anya,” he reassured her. “It’ll be fine.”

The Governor dipped his spoon into the pot—was it Anya’s imagination, or did the liquid look much darker than it had before Shane added the void mayonnaise?—blew on it gently, and took a taste.

The reaction wasn’t immediate. Anya watched the Governor swallow and lick his lips, an intrigued look on his face—before it quickly crumpled into something awful. 

“That, uh…that certainly has a peculiar flavor,” he muttered.

Lewis, dread creeping into his expression, took his own spoon and dipped it into the pot. He made an effort of swallowing as Marnie watched on, a worried hand pressed over her mouth.

“It would appear that someone was unaware their contribution was spoiled,” he agreed, a tone to his voice indicating that _yes_ , it must have been a mistake, because if anyone deliberately added poor ingredients to the soup, there’d be trouble. Anya subconsciously shifted behind Shane, still clutching his hand.

“Oh, dear,” said Marnie, “should we still serve it?”

Gus seized the opportunity to intervene. “I’m sure I could run back to the Saloon and whip something up, if it’s no good,” he suggested.

Everyone chimed their agreement. Anya tugged on Shane’s hand, stretching to whisper in his ear.

“Maybe we should sit the Luau out from now on.”

He nodded with a grimace. “Yeah. I think that might be best.”


	2. Summer Pt.II - Dance of the Moonlight Jellies

“If you’re that tired, we can just head home,” said Shane. “They’ll be back next year.”

Anya opened her mouth, ready to reply—but released a drawn-out yawn instead. She swore under her breath, grinding the heel of one hand against her eye.

“No, ‘m fine, I promise,” she insisted. For the first time since moving to Pelican Town, she longed for the days when she was able to stay awake until two, three o’clock some nights and sleep till noon the next day. She could operate on such little sleep back then. Waking up at six a.m. and performing the kind of physical labor farming demanded until sundown sure forced you to adapt to a new sleep schedule, and quickly. Normally, Anya would be wrapped around Miso, snoring away by now.

But the moonlight jellies only drifted by Stardew Valley once a year, sweeping away summer and heralding in the fall. Anya swore she could already feel a chill on the breeze coming in off the ocean. She shivered a little and pressed against Shane's side. He smiled and wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder.

“Cold?"

“Mm, just a bit.” Anya craned her head to peer further down the dock. “Where did Jas go?”

“Probably playing with Vincent. She’s a good kid—she’ll keep outta trouble.”

"I hope I'm not imposing on your guys' tradition or anything.”

"'s not really a tradition," Shane replied, "just a way for me to keep her off Aunt Marnie's hands for a little while. Besides, I think she's happier now that you're around."

Anya contemplated this. "You know, I remember seeing you the first time I ever saw the moonlight jellies,” she confessed.

“Really?” Shane raised his eyebrows. “Did I look particularly shitty that night or something?”

Anya pinched his side and leveled him with a warning look. “I remember it was the first time I’d ever seen you and Jas together. It was also the first time I saw you…well, I don’t think happy’s the right word. But you were content. When you talked to Jas, you actually smiled.” Her cheeks grew warm. “And I thought you looked really nice when you smiled like that.”

She peeked at Shane from the corner of her eye. He was blushing, too, though his gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon. He squeezed her shoulder.

“Then I got too distracted by the jellies to pay any more attention to you,” Anya joked, hastening to lighten the mood. Shane cracked a smile.

“Yeah? I have to agree they’re prettier than I am.”

Anya snorted a little and closed her eyes. Normally, Stardew Valley’s myriad holidays and gatherings were characterized by plenty of joyous noise and interaction, but not tonight. No, everyone seemed to recognize that the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies was something special, deserving of a certain respect, if not downright reverence. Few spoke above a murmur, gathered here and there between the beach and docks.

Naturally, there were exceptions.

Jas and Vincent came sprinting towards them, their bare feet slapping on worn wood. Cheeks flushed and out of breath, Vincent proudly thrust his cupped hands forward as Jas exclaimed, "Hey Anya, look! Look what we found!"

Anya leaned forward eagerly as Vincent parted his hands just enough for her to take a peek. Nestled in the minuscule space between his palms were two fireflies, their lights pulsating slowly.

"I haven't seen any fireflies for a while--I thought they'd left for the summer," said Jas, followed by Vincent proclaiming, "I found them all on my own!"

Jas frowned and crossed her arms. "Hey! I helped!"

"But you didn't find them, did you?" Vincent shot back.

"Both of you did a great job," Anya interrupted, diffusing what would otherwise be a long, _loud_ argument. "Don't hang onto them too long though--they need to go join all their friends, don't they?"

Vincent looked disheartened at the prospect of releasing his new treasure, but he and Jas dashed back down the dock nonetheless. Shane shook his head as Anya laughed.

"They're good kids."

"Yeah, when they're preoccupied," said Shane.

The sound of the kids' footsteps grew distant and quiet blanketed their corner of the beach once more. Anya brushed the surface of the water with a bare toe, watching the reflection of lanterns on the mirror-like surface distort and ripple. Paired with the glittering stars overhead, she was certain she’d never seen anything quite so beautiful.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” she murmured.

Shane leaned his head on hers. “Y’know,” he said, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Again Anya let her toes drag across the water, not caring how the chill raised goosebumps on her bare legs. “I’m sorry we don’t get to have moments like this all that often.”

“What?” Shane shifted enough to look down at her, brows furrowed. “What’re you talking about?”

“I’m always so busy with the farm—tending to the crops, the animals…” Anya trailed off. It was a kind of guilt she’d never shared with Shane before. She considered herself blessed by Yoba beyond measure to have the farm and the lifestyle she did, but sometimes, on particularly hard days when Shane was already in bed by the time she got home, she longed for a ‘normal’ job. One with set hours, one that didn’t give her a sore back she shouldn’t have had until she was sixty, one that allowed for proper free time. Then she would remember the life she’d led at the Joja Corporation and be content. Still, though, it nagged at her some days.

“Hey, don’t you ever apologize to me for your work,” Shane retorted. “I knew what I was getting into when I decided to marry you—long before that, even. If it bothered me so much, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Right, right… You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“What did I just—”

She laughed. “I know! My bad. Little slip up.”

Shane shook his head, though a soft smile graced his lips, and leaned to press a chaste kiss to the top of her head. “Dork,” he mumbled.

“I saw one! It’s starting!” The shout came from somewhere down the beach—Anya wasn’t sure if it was Sam or Vincent who had made the exclamation (sometimes it was eerie how similar the two sounded). Nevertheless, the entirety of Pelican Town rushed to the edge of the docks, peering into the vast expanse of dark, clear water.

When her eyes found one of the jellies, Anya sucked in a sharp breath. It was soon joined by another—and another—until dozens of the moonlight jellies floated toward the docks. They were like stars that had fallen from heaven into the sea.

It wasn’t difficult for her to see Shane’s expression in the dark; the luminescence of the jellies was strong enough to cast a bluish glow across his skin. Anya could count on one hand the number of times she had seen such unadulterated awe on her husband’s face.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” he murmured. “They came to these same docks last year…and they’ll do the same again next year. Nature is amazing.”

Anya reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “How amazing is it that we live somewhere where we get to see things like this?”

Shane hummed. After a pause, he said, “I remember the first time you ever saw the jellies, too.”

This caught Anya’s attention. She turned to regard him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Red mingled with the jellies’ glow on his cheeks. “You were so…awed by it all. Even though I haven’t lived in the Valley long, I’ve been around to see them stop by for years. I guess after a while I got used to it and lost that initial wonder. But you? You were like a kid, and there was something about it…” Shane struggled for the right words.

Anya smiled and turned back toward the sea. Though it felt like they’d only just arrived, the moonlight jellies were already beginning to drift back to more open waters. She wondered where it was they were going.

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Shane decided at last. “I just know that I thought you were beautiful. I think it was the first time I ever realized it.”

For once, words escaped Anya. She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Love you, Shane.”

Shane graced her with a rare, brilliant grin, and drew her closer.


	3. Summer Pt.III - Jas's Birthday

Marnie leaned down to check the contents of Jas’s bag. “You’re sure you have everything?”

“Yes, Aunt Marnie,” said Jas dutifully.

“Okay, just making sure.” Marnie zipped up Jas’s bag and smiled, adjusting the girl’s hairbow. “I’ll see you tonight. Be good for Shane and Anya, okay?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Anya assured her. “Seven o’clock for the cake, right?”

“I think that’ll work fine. You all have fun!”

Anya and Jas waved from their spot on the front porch as Marnie trekked back to her ranch. Once she was out of sight, Anya placed her hands on her hips and grinned.

“Alright Birthday Girl, what do you want to do today?” she chirped.

“Oh, uh…” Jas twisted the toe of one glossy Mary Jane against the knotted hardwood, averting her gaze. “What did _you_ want to do?”

“Well, Shane and I had some ideas, but we thought we’d let you decide what we did,” Anya explained, leading her inside. A blast of crisp air conditioning welcomed them. “We could get ice cream and go to the park, or hit the beach, or stick around here—”

“The first one,” Jas interrupted. “The park and stuff. That sounds nice.”

“Great! Just give Shane and I a minute to get ready and we’ll head out.”

Jas smiled and nodded, twisting the straps of her backpack. Anya retreated to the bedroom to find Shane seated on the edge of the bed, vigorously drying his hair with a towel. 

“You about ready?” Anya asked, rummaging through one of the dresser drawers.

“Yeah, I just need a clean shirt—” Shane broke off as Anya blindly grabbed a t-shirt from the drawer she was inspecting and tossed it over her head. He snatched it from the air, grinning.

“Thanks.”

“Do you want some sunscreen first? Jas said she wants to go to the park.”

“I think I’ll be alright. We’ll just find a shady tree to sit under or something.”

Anya laughed under her breath. “Well, suit yourself. The last thing I need are any more freckles. I have too many from working out on the farm.”

“Awh, but I like them.” Shane’s arms snaked around her waist as she squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen into her palm. She laughed.

“I’m always amazed at how pale you are compared to me.” Anya used her free hand to pat Shane’s cheek lovingly, gazing at their reflections in the mirror above the dresser. She’d always had a warm complexion, but after a few years of working on the farm, her skin was a deep tan compared to Shane’s. In retaliation, he liked to poke fun at her drastic tan lines.

“The sun doesn’t like me very much.”

“It sure seems that way.”

Shane moved away so she could begin rubbing sunscreen over her arms. She peered out the open bedroom door, where Jas had decided to amuse herself with their cat, Miso. A long feather toy dangled from her fingers, always twitching just out of reach the moment Miso reached to swing at it.

“Jas doesn’t seem too excited about her birthday,” she observed.

“She’s a pretty quiet kid.”

“Yeah…” Anya recalled how long it had taken to get the girl to warm up to her after moving to the Valley, how shy she’d been when speaking. “But every kid loves their birthday, don’t they? I thought she’d have all these plans about what she wanted to do today and all that.”

Shane ran a brush through his hair, contemplative. “I think a lot of it is just her missing her parents,” he said at last. “She never says as much, but I know she wishes they were here.”

“Oh. Right. God, I’m so stupid,” Anya muttered. How could she have overlooked such an obvious explanation? Young as she was, Anya was sure Jas had numerous joyful memories of birthdays spent with her parents. For them to be gone now, her birthday had to be a bittersweet occasion.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it—it’s not like it’s something we ever talk about.”

Anya busied herself with readying her own bag rather than responding. Jas’s parents were a subject she had breached with Shane minimally. They’d been close friends—of course, given he was Jas’s godfather—and she knew it must be painful to talk about them, so she tried not to bring them up too much. They’d died in a car accident, Jas was released to Shane’s custody, and Marnie had been more than willing to take the girl under her wing. It had been that way for four years now.

Shane insisted that’s all there was, and Anya didn’t press.

“We’re gonna give her a kickass birthday,” she declared under her breath.

“What was that, honey?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Anya returned the sunscreen to the drawer and shut it with her hip. “Let’s go—I don’t wanna keep Jas waiting.”

After several days of rain, the clouds had finally parted, and the sun burned away insufferable humidity and damp. The world seemed greener in the aftermath of the storms, flowers fuller, the air fresh in Anya’s lungs. She took a deep breath of it and sighed.

“I just love how everything looks after it rains. Don’t you, Jas?”

“Uh-huh.” Jas didn’t look up, transfixed on the menu board with more intensity than Anya would have expected. Apparently, choosing the right flavor of ice cream carried considerable pressure. Alex watched with no little boredom, tapping his fingers against the cart.

“I’ll just take a scoop of strawberry,” Anya supplied as Shane dug for his wallet.

“Gross,” he mumbled. Anya pinched his side.

“I’m sorry, dear, what was that?” she asked, sugar sweet. 

“Nothing, sweetheart—scoop of chocolate, please.” Shane passed Alex the money before he set to work. “What about you, kiddo? Know what you want?”

“Strawberry,” Jas declared.

Shane feigned shock. “Betrayed by my own family. This is the worst day of my life.”

Jas giggled while Anya accepted their ice cream. “See? Strawberry’s the superior flavor.”

“Over my dead body.”

With ice cream in hand, the trio crossed the river back towards the northern end of town and the park. A butterfly briefly took interest in Jas’s ice cream before drifting off on the breeze. Having finished her cone in record time, Anya reached for Shane’s free hand, her own sticky from strawberry ice cream. He grimaced; Anya grinned back at him cheekily.

“So Jas,” Anya inquired, taking pleasure in swinging her and Shane’s interlocked hands. “You glad to be free from school for a while?” Although Pelican Town didn’t have an official school, Penny strove to structure her classes for Jas and Vincent as closely after a normal school system as possible. That meant holiday breaks—including a few weeks during the summer.

Jas shrugged, licking at her ice cream. “I like school. It keeps me busy.”

“I’m sure Aunt Marn’s been putting you to work on the farm—that’s gotta keep you busy too, right?” Shane pointed out.

“Yeah. And it’s fun,” Jas replied, “but I like going to the library with Miss Penny and Vincent and reading books a lot. And Miss Penny always gives me really cool stickers when I get good grades,” she added with a note of pride.

Anya and Shane exchanged a raised-brow glance. “I always hated school,” Anya mumbled.

“I only passed because I had to keep my grades up for sports,” Shane agreed.

Jas didn’t seem to hear them, however, having finally caught sight of the swing set. She stuffed the remainder of the cone in her mouth and dashed for it, gesturing for Shane and Anya to join her.

“Find us a shady bench—I’ve got this,” Shane offered, but Anya patted his arm.

“I’ll do it—you go sit in the shade, Mr. I-Hate-The-Sun.”

She jogged to meet Jas, who was already seated on one of the swings. She was making a game of twisting the swing back and forth so it sent her spinning.

“I know Shane usually pushes you, but is it alright if I do this time?” Anya asked.

“Sure,” Jas agreed, already beaming as Anya grabbed the swing’s chains and began pulling her back. 

Anya was reminded suddenly and acutely of her father pushing her on the swings as a little girl—higher, higher, always higher. There was a time as a child that she’d been obsessed with anything that flew. She loved birds and she’d dreamed of being an airline pilot or a flight attendant or anything, really, that would put her up in the sky.

She wondered if either of Jas’s parents had pushed her on the swings, too.

“Higher!” Jas exclaimed on a laugh, pulling Anya from her reverie. She found herself laughing as well, rearing back to give her an extra hard shove. 

Jas whooped in delight, her Mary Janes kicking at the sky.

“God, I’m tired,” Shane groaned, kicking off his shoes the moment he entered the bedroom.

“Not too tired, I hope. Don’t forget Marnie’s coming by soon for cake and presents.” Anya examined herself in the mirror and frowned, pushing back her sweaty hair. “Do you think I have time for a shower? Normally I wouldn’t care, but I don’t want Marnie thinking I smell like a pig.”

“Go on, I’ll start getting things ready.”

Anya pecked Shane on the cheek in thanks and dashed for the bathroom. Shane lifted an arm, sniffed himself, and shrugged. Good enough.

When he returned to the living room, Jas was again playing with Miso, dragging the feather toy back and forth across the floor.

“I bet Aunt Marn would get a cat if you begged enough,” he teased, grabbing some plates from the cupboard. “They’d keep rats out of the barn.”

“I've tried, but she says that with all the other animals she won’t have time right now. Maybe when I’m older.” Jas looked up. In her moment of distraction, Miso pounced and began chewing the feather. “But...maybe if _you_ brought it up—”

“Alright, I’ve got you. I’ll see what I can do.” Shane opened a drawer and frowned. How could they possibly have no clean forks? He turned his attention to the dishwasher.

“Really?” Jas scrambled to her feet; Miso meowed in protest.

“Sure. You’re a responsible kid, I don’t see why you couldn’t take care of a cat. It’ll be a good experience for you.” Ah, there they were. Shane grabbed a few forks, examined the otherwise full dishwasher, and decided he’d empty it later. “Or maybe, if she doesn’t go along with it at first, we could convince her to let you pet-sit Miso for us every now and then. Prove you’ve got what it takes.”

Jas hesitated. “Do you think Anya would be okay with that?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Don’t see what now?” Anya stepped into the living room, tugging her damp auburn hair into a ponytail. Jas jumped up and was immediately at her side.

“Shane and I were talking about convincing Aunt Marnie to get a cat,” she exclaimed, with more energy than Anya thought she’d ever seen from her, “and if—and if we have trouble, he said maybe I could pet-sit for you and take care of Miso and are you _sure_ it’d be okay—”

“Whoa, whoa, easy there!” Anya couldn’t help but laugh. It was wonderful to see such eagerness on Jas’s face. “Of course it’d be okay. I trust you’ll take the absolute best care of Miso, should we ever need you to.”

“Thank you!” Jas threw her arms around Anya’s waist and squeezed her tight. “This is the best birthday ever!”

Anya’s hands rested lightly, uncertainly, on Jas’s shoulders. She met Shane’s eyes over the girl’s sizeable bow and shrugged a little, a crooked smile on her face. He returned the gesture, his dark eyes glimmering.

“Hey, we’ve always got your back, that’s what family’s for.” Anya gave Jas’s bow a little tug and grinned. “Why don’t you help me get the cake out? I bet you’re gonna love it.”

Later that night, Shane and Anya stood on the front porch and waved to Marnie and Jas’s retreating figures. It had taken much prodding and convincing, but by the time the dirty dishes had been put in the sink and the last of the birthday wrapping paper thrown away, Marnie had agreed to let Jas keep Miso at the ranch the next time the couple went out of town. Jas’s reaction to this had been better than any of her actual presents.

“’Night, be safe!” Anya hollered, waving once more. When they’d disappeared from sight, she lowered her arm, Shane’s own slipping around her waist and pulling her close.

“I’d say Jas’s birthday was a success,” he observed.

“I think I have to agree.” Anya turned to him with a smile, stretching up to kiss him quickly. “I want her to know that we’re all really her family, and that we want the best for her, y’know? Even though her parents are gone.”

Shane rubbed her side. “Oh, I don’t doubt she knows that, honey."

"Yeah..." Anya rested her head against Shane's arm. "She's a good kid."

"Mm-hm." Shane gave a little tug on her waist and nuzzled her neck. "C'mon, let's go inside. I'm exhausted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you didn't know Jas was an orphan and not related to Shane/Marnie by blood until you went on her wiki! Once I found that out, I decided I wanted to emphasize the "found family" dynamic between Jas, Shane, and Anya for this chapter. Nevertheless, I still found it a bit difficult to write, so I hope you all still enjoy!
> 
> Also - I understand that TECHNICALLY, Jas's birthday should have been first in the line-up in terms of chronological events for the summer season. My mistake!


End file.
